Chapter Text
Amelia was only in her second year of medical school when she was invited to a conference for the first time, though not for her own merit at that age. The conference just happened to have been in Boston and local medical students were asked to come, by convenience of proximity, to promote the message of aiding future doctors, passing on legacies, and other emotionally manipulative marketing slogans. Regardless of the reason, she had been thrilled to attend and made it her mission to collect every free item available. Her bag filled with cheap water bottles and free shirts she’d only ever wear as pajamas, and barely any of her attention was given to the seminars, except for one. One that stuck out like a sore thumb on their itineraries. One that made most of the older doctor’s roll their eyes and scoff. One that seemed to attract the same kind of trouble that followed Amelia everywhere.
“The Science of Soulmates: Medicinal Applications”
She remembered the doctor who spoke about it more than anything really. The old man walked shakily around the stage, and his shoulders hung low like they carried the weight of all the fighting he had done for his research. But, even with his visible exhaustion, his eyes shone bright under his spectacles, impassioned by the topic he pleaded them to buy into. Like an old storyteller, he had weaved a fairytale into their modern reality, and sat within the tiny audience, Amelia had intently listened.
Trillions and trillions of years ago, before life had ever begun, only atoms existed. These atoms were there, next to each other, floating with each other, and creating new things with each other. When the Big Bang gave birth to the universe, clustered atoms were ripped apart and thrown to and fro all around, and thus, life slowly began to form. But, even through every age and every life that formed, those atoms never forgot. Soulmates, people who were made of atoms that were close to each other during the violent beginning of the universe. Soulmates, people who were made of atoms that, against all odds, were able to find each other again.
Some historic stories gave clues on how human soulmates seemed to work, but a lot of the information was purely guessed and spotty at best. Read in between the lines of scripture, Romantic Era poems and paintings long since faded, soulmates seemed to be the ultimate source of healing, as long as the soulmates yielded to each other. Legend held that upon the first kiss of two soulmates, they would be sent through the memories of their partner from birth until the moment the pair had met. Then, and only then, would they be completely bonded.
In an instant, their synapses would rewire to hold the memories of their partner, their organs would reach new levels of functionality, and their body could recover even from the brink of death. Connection to a level unseen by the modern eye.
Amelia recalled that no one believed the old doctor. Even if soulmates were real, they were so incredibly rare that no proper studies could be done to prove their medicinal functions. She remembered being so struck by the whole topic that she called Derek about it. Being barely into his residency at the time, he was likely to shrug it to the side and call her crazy, much like her sisters probably would have. Though, against better judgement, he had listened, mused over the curiosities and laughed at the idea of someone seeing all of his memories in an instant.
Amelia didn’t laugh. The idea of it terrified her.
How could someone see all the good, all the bad, all the hidden secrets of a person and still find the courage to stay? How could someone be sure their soulmate wouldn’t run away? How could she ever find it in herself to let it all go?
In the end, they both brushed the idea off and moved on.
Then, life happened. The bad piled up. With each year that passed, Amelia lost a piece of hope she didn’t even realize she was hanging on to.
Who could possibly be willing to stick around after seeing all her bad?
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Constant clicking and beeping rang out from the nurses station, but it all blended into the dull background noise of Amelia’s mind. Experience as a doctor lent her memories she’d rather let go of, skills she wished she didn’t have to use, and the handy ability to tune out the entire world. Charting helped with the mindlessness of it all, even if it was dreadfully boring. Add some notes, double check everything the intern did, sign on the line, and move on. Rinse and repeat until all the words blurred together or the tablet inconveniently died. At times, charting felt like the only thing Amelia could control in her day.
Her pager buzzed. Then buzzed again. And then she got a text. She sighed heavily as she pinched the bridge of her nose, mournfully placing the tablet to the side. First page was to Teddy’s office; the second was for a consult…with Monica.
She hated the way her heart fluttered at the thought of her. She hated the way she couldn’t resist smiling. She hated how she headed to the imaging room first without a second thought. More than anything, though, she hated how she couldn’t bring herself to actually hate any of it at all.
Amelia knocked twice before entering the room, and Monica looked up with an easy smile. “Dr.Shepherd, hey.”
“Dr. Beltran,” Amelia greeted, returning the smile. “You paged?”
“Oh, yeah.” Monica stood up from the table and came around in front of Amelia, holding something behind her back. Amelia raised an eyebrow at the other doctor’s smirk. Mischievous by nature, but enticing, nonetheless.
“Ta-da!” Monica beamed. She moved her arms to the front now, revealing a coffee and a little pastry box. “Coffee, and of course, an almond croissant because I swear those things are to die for…” she trailed off.
“Wha…uh.” Amelia blinked. “You paged me…for coffee?”
“And a croissant.”
“Coffee and a croissant.” She eyed Monica suspiciously as she took a sip of the coffee. “You know, there are other emergencies happening right now. Patients that need medical attention. Altman needed to see me, too.”
“I would argue that caffeine is an emergency,” Monica argued, crossing her arms.
“Beltran…”
“Wait, you ignored the chief to see me?”
“Monica,” Amelia sighed, ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks. She ducked her head down, putting the treats on the table and praying Monica didn’t notice. “You’re up to something. What’s going on?”
Monica didn’t speak as she moved around the table, clicking open a file and projecting it on the screen. “I just wanted your opinion on some scans, if you don’t mind.” Silently, the pair moved to stand in front of the screen side-by-side. Amelia could feel the building charge from their proximity, but she tried to push it to the side as much as possible. Monica’s demeanor gave away how important this was, even as she kept her guard up.
MRI images of a brain popped up wordlessly, and it didn’t take her long to make some concrete deductions. “This isn’t a peds case,” Amelia mused. “And that is one hell of a tumor. A glioblastoma in the frontal lobe, probably entwined with a dozen blood vessels. God, its size is causing a midline shift, jeesh.”
Amelia eyed Monica at her side, but her expression remained stoic. Impassive. A facade.
“Who’s the patient?” she whispered.
“Eliana.” Monica breathed the name, like the admission of it hurt. “Eliana Beltran. My younger sister who lives back in Texas.”
A beat passed.
“Every neurosurgeon she’s seen has passed on the case. Every single one told her to travel, enjoy her life and just get comfortable. Every single one said it was…impossible.”
Amelia thought of her recent cases, the people who had been labeled as impossible the same way. Each patient that she gave a fighting chance. Each miracle she pulled off, and each time she almost couldn’t save them.
“Altman probably wants to talk to you about the case. She’ll tell you every risk, everything that could go badly, and I won’t lie…she’s not wrong,” she sighed. “But, I know my sister. She is strong. Fearless. Stubborn as hell, too. And she just needs a chance.”
“You want me to operate on her.”
“There is no one I would trust more.” She turned to fully face Amelia now, open and vulnerable. “I told you that I would bet on you every time. I meant it.”
Amelia didn’t know when they had gotten so close or why it was so hard to not look away from her eyes. Charged words lingered in the air, and the beeping of screens faded into the background.
Impossible was such a heavy word. But, Monica had full faith she could carry it. Monica believed in her, even when everyone else would call it crazy. Monica was handing over a big piece of her heart, trusting Amelia not to break it.
Well, that was a first.
“Sorry for saying it was a hell of a tumor.”
“Sorry for trying to bribe you with coffee.”
Amelia smiled. “Don’t forget the croissant.”
Monica huffed a laugh, pushing some hair behind her ear. “I would never.” She stepped back to the desk to collect some papers. “I’ve got a consult, and you need to talk to the chief. I’ll see you around, Shepherd.”
The glow of the screen hurt her eyes, but she kept her focus sharp, scanning every inch of the image. This was just like every other case, except for the fact that it wasn’t at all. This one was heavier to hold but, somehow, easy to carry. It held the kind of pressure that made bottles explode. The type that built slowly over time. The type that was felt more than seen. The type that Amelia wasn’t ready to talk about yet.
Teddy paged again, and Amelia shut down the screens. Standing at the door, she relished the quiet, the peace of the moment and the lingering feeling of warmth from Monica. As she crossed the threshold into the hospital hallway, she pushed it all down.
Good surgeons didn’t feel their emotions like Amelia Shepherd did. In this case, Eliana, and Monica, needed a good surgeon more than anything else.